


Fulfilling Vows

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 06:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4511208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has a tendency to withdraw when he's scared, something Molly isn't quite sure how to deal with, but some good advice from Anthea on how to remind Sherlock he's not alone works wonders on bringing her husband back to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fulfilling Vows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daisherz365](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisherz365/gifts).



> This fic had two inspirations: the first was a headcanon from **[daisherz365](http://sincerelydayyy.tumblr.com/post/121217446585/let-there-be-headcanons-ii)** ( _Anthea giving Molly advice when Sherlock goes silent when something not good happens with his dad. The last time it happened she had her hands full with Mycroft talking a bit too much (rare occurence), the opposite happening with Sherlock. His silence always being a constant worry to her._ ) and the second was [this lovely piece of fanart](http://artbylexie.tumblr.com/post/125898704572/for-petratodd-who-never-asks-for-anything-but) from **artbylexie** on Tumblr.

Sherlock had gotten the call while he and Molly had been at Baker Street, relaxing before going out for a night of silly board games and dinner at the Watsons. He’d not wanted to take the call the first time it rang, thumbing the accept call button to the reject side, and he did it again the second time, but instead of calling the third time there was a text, and it simply read _Dad’s in the hospital. MH_ And that was all it took for Sherlock to accept the next call that came through, sitting there silently with very little comment.

It wasn’t completely unexpected, a heart attack at his father’s age. According to Mycroft they were 90% sure he was going to be fine; he’d had chest discomfort and their mother had insisted he go to the hospital, and they’d been in the middle of tests when the heart attack happened. He’d been whisked into surgery quite quickly and the surgical team had taken care of the problem with stints. Now it was just a matter of how he healed, how he took to the lifestyle changes and medication and exercise regimen he was going to have to go through. But he was stubborn and tough, just like all the Holmes men, and Molly had hope he’d pull through.

She wasn’t sure how to deal with Sherlock like this. She had a little experience, having dealt with him after the fall, but he hadn’t been so _quiet_. He’d ranted and raved, gesticulated wildly and moved about. But this time…this time he stayed in his chair or on the sofa or in bed, not moving much, not speaking much. She didn’t know if he wanted space or he wanted her close, and when she tried to ask he said very little, if he said anything at all. She was at a loss.

After forty-eight hours of this, she took her mobile into the loo and perched on the toilet, pulling her feet up and holding her knees close to her chest. She could call John, she supposed, but John used to get frustrated and complain to her when he’d get in a mood, and she doubted he had seen Sherlock in a mood like this before. She could call him mum, but she was probably taking care of her husband and really, she didn’t need to worry about Sherlock on top of worrying about James. She could call Mrs. Hudson but she’d suggest mothering him and that just didn’t seem like it was the best idea. She debated calling Mycroft but she wasn’t sure he’d be much help and he was probably dealing with his own thoughts on the issue.

But Andrea…she might have some thoughts.

She had the woman’s mobile number programmed under her code name of Anthea, even though any time they talked in a private setting she called her by her given name. Both of them cared for the Holmes brother they’d chosen to spend their time with, though her relationship to Sherlock was romantic while Andrea’s relationship to Mycroft appeared to be completely platonic. If anyone would know how to handle either of them, it would be her. She pulled up her number, pressed call and waited. She picked up after three rings. “He isn’t taking it well,” Andrea said by way of greeting.

“No," Molly said with a sigh. “Silent and immobile. I honestly think he’s depressed. How is your Holmes brother?”

“Ranting and raving,” Andrea said. “I think if he believed in God he might be dangerously close to admitting he didn’t exist. I don’t want to think about what it would be like if James _hadn’t_ pulled through.”

A shudder ran through Molly. She didn’t want to imagine what it would be like if Sherlock had lost his father. It could still happen of course, but if it had been so suddenly, without warning, without the chance to say his good-byes and make his peace? “It was good that Victoria forced him to go in for the tests.”

“Yes. The Holmes men need strong women in their lives, apparently,” Andrea said. “Sherlock, though. He needs someone soft, and caring, and kind. Mycroft and James are usually quiet and reserved to the outside world, but when they get scared they get angry. Sherlock is their opposite. I gather he has been since he was quite young. When he gets scared, he gets quiet and withdrawn. He needs to know he’s not alone.”

“How do I go about it, though?” Molly asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “He doesn’t respond to much I say or do.”

“Tell him you’re there, however and whenever he needs you. Then hold him close. He may respond right away, he may not. If he doesn’t, do it again later. But eventually you’ll break through his wall and he’ll remember you’re there and you love him and he won’t block you out.” Andrea paused for a moment. “Mycroft seems calm for the moment. I should go see if there’s any breakables left in the vicinity.”

Molly winced. “Hopefully it wasn’t the antique stuff.”

“I gave him the various gaudy gifts that have been accumulating over the last nine months since his last outburst to throw,” she said with a hint of pride in her voice. “Nothing worth anything, just the bits of rubbish that minor diplomats fob off on other minor diplomats. But I think it’s served a better purpose being tossed against a wall than collecting dust in the attic. Plus I don’t have to count it for inventory.”

“Well, hopefully he’s more permanently calm,” Molly said, a small smile on her face. “And if you need anything, call me.”

“Go take care of Sherlock,” Andrea said. “I’ve got Mycroft handled. I have years of experience.”

“All right. Bye, Andrea,” Molly said.

“Bye, Molly,” Andrea said.

She hung up her mobile and then got off the toilet before leaving the loo. She looked in the bedroom but didn’t see Sherlock there. That was curious. She then made her way out to the sitting room and saw him putting his coat on, rather in a daze, it seemed. She stepped in front of him and he paused. “I thought you were out,” he said quietly.

She shook her head. “I was just having a chat with a friend,” she said.

“Oh,” he replied.

She reached up and framed his face in her hands. “Sherlock, remember I love you. I made a promise in front of a hundred people that I was going to love you for the rest of my life, and I fully intend to hold true to that promise. And I will always, _always_ be there for you, whenever you need me, however you need me. So if you need me to help you with all this, then tell me, and whatever you need me to do I’ll do, whenever you want me to do it. But just remember you aren’t alone. You have me now, for better or for worse, till death do us part.”

He nodded slowly, and then he leaned in and kissed her softly. She let go of his face, putting her arms around him instead, and after a moment he embraced her tightly as well. She stood on her toes slightly and buried her face more in the crook of his neck. “I would like to go back to bed and just keep you close for a while,” he said.

“We can do that,” she said, her voice muffled by her mouth being in his coat. “We can do whatever you want today.” He tightened his hold on her and she felt herself relax. This…this was a concrete sign to her that things were going to be okay. He knew she loved him, that she was there for him, and he wasn’t blocking her out anymore. So long as he let her be close, things would be okay.


End file.
